


Bound to You

by milkywayhitchhiker



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, also the author's a lazy ass procrastinatress, this is an experiment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkywayhitchhiker/pseuds/milkywayhitchhiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is giving someone the power to destroy you - but trusting them not to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TONY

“Stark, do you copy?” Fury’s voice crackles in Tony’s ears through the transmitter.

“Iron Man standing by,” he answers while taking another celestial circle above the wharf of the East river.   
The view is quite captivating in its creepy, terrifying way, Tony has to admit; the Brooklyn bridge literally began to melt – its strong, heavy-looking pillars twisting, creaking in such a high-pitched way it makes his ears ring and sends a piercing feeling into his brain. 

“Then why don’t you stop buzzing around like some exquisite dragonfly and help with the evacuation?” Fury asks in an irritated voice and Tony starts for the bridge in answer.

“What the hell is that son of a bitch doing again?” he murmurs to himself out loud. The HUD screen inside his helmet evaluates each impossible angle the metal and stone pieces are curved into and Tony calculates the needed strength to do this a moment before the same numbers appear in front of him on the screen.   
Tony makes a mental note to upgrade JARVIS’s software in his spare time – I mean, what’s the point of having a supercomputer who is capable of running a whole household, if you have to wait at least 5 seconds to have certain measurements?

“Mind your words, Tony Stark,” Thor’s grim voice reaches his ears.

“Whoops. Sorry, big guy. Except not really,” he answers and can almost see Steve looking up at him, shaking his head in that annoying judging way of his.   
Fortunately, Natasha diverts the conversation back to business before Steve and Thor could start their usual speeches; one of good manners and respect, the other about brotherly love and family. Tony knows them basically word by word and has no interest in pretending to listen to them again. 

“Guys, is it just me, or is Loki really trying to tear the Brooklyn bridge out of the ground?”

“He’s melting the asphalt and the parts above water, but tries to spare metal cords and the beams at the footing,” Clint joins in and they can hear the shrieks of the crowd around him.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about bridges, but I don’t think the footing should float around like that,” Tony still tries to joke, but Fury and Steve interrupt him and start giving orders in stereo. 

“Agents Romanoff and Barton – Captain Rogers needs your help on the ground. Evacuate every living soul from the area! Make sure no one’s around when we bring Loki down. Stark – try to convince the Hulk and put back the footing to its place! And Thor – I want you to find your brother. Now!” Fury shouts and everyone’s on the move at once.

“JARVIS, give me some sweet background music,” Tony orders and turns off the transmitter. As AC/DC starts blasting in his ears, he dives and crosses the distance between him and the footing of the bridge in a couple of seconds. The Hulk is there, growling at Iron Man as he lands beside him. That’s not gonna be an easy rodeo, Tony thinks.

It takes a couple of minutes to persuade him (the promise of letting him smash something later always works – and today Tony doesn’t feel like stepping between Loki and their green rage monster friend) and a lot more to get the work done, but eventually, the Hulk and Tony manage to drag the metal leg back to the ground. Tony still can see no sign of Loki, and he doubts that they could’ve even touched the bridge if the sorcerer had been here or concentrated a bit more.

But as he turns the transmitter back on, he can hear that Loki’s pretty occupied at the moment and doesn’t care about such trivial things as melting metal beams and asphalt and cars together and killing dozens of people. A small camera broadcasts his fight against Thor live into the helmet of the suit, so Tony can see that they are fighting on the riverbank, hammer and scepter clashing together, ringing loudly as they meet again and again. 

Tony would never bring Thor’s wrath upon his head by interrupting his reckoning – and besides, his shoulders ache a bit from all the dragging and pushing and   
pulling he has done, so he just sits back and lets Thor solve the problem. 

But not everyone’s as patient (mean: lazy, a voice says in his head that closely resembles to Pepper’s) as he is. 

“Oh come on, I’m like getting bored to death over here! Let’s speed this thing up, shall we?” Clint calls and a moment later explosive arrows land everywhere around Loki. 

Thor heard Hawkeye’s warning so he jumps back a moment before they start exploding. It takes Loki by surprise and when one arrowhead blows up right under his feet he loses his balance and the smoke confuses him for a second. And that second is enough for Thor: the demigod takes one step forward and with a dramatic swing of Mjölnir, he hits Loki right in the middle of his chest.

The effect is beyond imagination. Tony decides immediately to keep the record and replay it every time he’s in a bad mood. Loki goes flying back, through the brick walls of the warehouses before a massive leg of a crane stops him. Unfortunately, the machine loses its balance and literally collapses on the trickster before he could move a muscle. 

After a moment of utter shock and silence, Thor cries out and stumbles to the pile of bricks and metal ruins. He begins digging with his bare hands, lifting the enormous steel beams without effort, blinded by his guilt and terror.

The others slowly approach the scene but nobody knows what to do. The dust around them settles slowly and Tony can hear the police cars approaching. Hopefully SHIELD will take care of them. They’ll close down the bridge as well, but with a couple of architects, it’ll be safe to use again in a short time. Disaster averted. Life goes on, like it always does. But they are just standing there, holding their breaths and watching the god of thunder tearing the ground apart.

Finally, Thor pushes away the last pieces and pulls his brother out of the crater. Tony is truly amazed; Loki looks so small now, thin and fragile; with those piercing green eyes closed, his face actually looks pretty and vulnerable. His black hair falls into his face and blood is leaking from the corner of his mouth. Thor gently places his head in his lap and smoothes his hair back – his hands are shaking like crazy.

Loki lies completely still and Tony catches himself staring intensively at his chest, waiting for it to rise and fall – but it doesn’t. Loki’s like a doll, like a statue, like a…

“He’s not dead, is he?” Steve asks in a hushed voice, quietly enough for Thor not to hear. He already seems catatonic and a suggestion like this would just probably push him over the edge. And whether there’s deep depression or raging fury on the other side, Tony really doesn’t want to find out.

Natasha stares at the two figures and presses her lips together until there’s only a thin line left. Her expression shows that she’s thinking just the same. And so is Clint. He fists his hands in his hair and paces around them with long strides, examining Loki from every angle.

“Come on, he’s just playing Sleeping Beauty,” Tony tries to joke again, but even he can hear the tremble in his voice, which is unusually thin now. There’s an unpleasant scoop in his throat and no matter how many times he swallows, it just won’t go away. 

He has no reason to feel guilty, Tony tells himself. Loki is the bad guy and they defeated him. Mission accomplished. City saved for the zillionth time. Well done. Anyone up for Shawarma? Simple as that.

Except that it’s not. Because Loki is also Thor’s brother and even though they beat the living shit out of each other regularly, Thor’s conflicted by his emotions all the time. What would he do if Loki died because of him? 

Fortunately, Bruce has calmed down – though he didn’t get the chance to smash Loki this time, after all –and put his pants on, so now he kneels next to them and looks at Thor questioningly. He can only nod and Tony wants to ask Bruce to examine him as well after he’s done with Loki, because he has never seen Thor like this before – he’s on the edge of freaking out completely, and that’s what freaks Tony out as well. 

Bruce carefully runs his fingers over Loki’s body. It seems that his left side got the first impact of the falling things, but he flattened on his right, so both could be badly hurt. While Bruce continues the medical examination, the others start to move as well. Steve stands behind Thor and rubs his shoulders in a rhythmic, comforting way. Clint reports to Fury and Natasha’s on the phone with Coulson, ordering a car for all of them. 

And Tony… well, Tony just stands there and hopes that no one notices how useless he is right now. He’s no doctor and he’s no agent. And he’s not Cap either, he’s never been good at comforting other people, listening to their problems and feeling sympathetic. He finally accepted the fact – after hours and hours of persuasion by Pepper – that he also has emotions, just like every other human being. And that was perfectly enough for him for a start: he doesn’t feel ready yet to embrace other people’s emotions.

“Well, he is definitely not dead,” announces Bruce finally, which makes Thor move for the first time since he found Loki. Until now, he was sitting there motionless, with his brother lying in his lap, and stared at his pale face blankly. Now he slowly raises his head and tears are shining in his eyes as he looks at Banner thankfully. 

But Bruce continues, “Though I have no idea how that is possible. You Asgardians must be indestructible… But he is injured severely. Apart from the cuts and bruises, his left shoulder is dislocated, he broke or ruptured basically each rib and his right wrist is broken. Moreover, he must have a concussion and I have no idea how long he’s going to be unconscious.”

It seems like someone sucked the blood out of Thor. He’s shaking and Tony’s almost certain that he’s going to throw up when the car of SHIELD finally arrives and two nurses put Loki on a stretcher. At least Tony has something to do now: he and Steve support Thor from each side and walk him to the car. He sits next to Loki and nobody dares to disagree. 

“Take us back to Stark Tower, please,” Cap commands. “Loki’s staying with us until we figure something better out.”

Tony quickly pulls the facemask back, so no one can see how he rolls his eyes. “See you there! The last one to arrive does the dishes!” And just like that, he launches.

In about 2 minutes, he’s standing on the upper terrace at Stark Tower. As he walks down the aisle and unwraps himself from the suit, he calls for JARVIS.

“JARVIS, where are the others?”

“According to the GPS signals, the car is 10 blocks away, sir,” JARVIS replies. Tony nods and quickly makes his way to the kitchen. He turns on the coffee machine and takes out 6 cups. He tries to occupy his brain with minor tasks, one thing after the other. Watching the drops of coffee. Ordering JARVIS to get a room ready for their guest. Making sure all the medical equipment they will be needing gets to the room in one piece. Taking part of his stress out by yelling at Dummy. Swearing under his breath. Pouring a Scotch. Drinking it. Pouring another. But that doesn’t work. His brain thinks further.

This is not good. This is bad. This is so fucking bad. Loki staying with them? Never a good idea. Even if he seems to be in some sort of coma right now, that’s not going to last forever. He will wake up (Tony’s strangely sure about that; Loki can’t die, that’s impossible, Loki won’t die, they won’t let him, he won’t let him) and when he does, he’ll be furious. Tony doesn’t want to imagine the damage he could do from the inside – to the tower and to them as well. 

Just as he finds the room ready, JARVIS reports that the car of SHIELD has stopped in front of the building. The doors of the great elevator slide open and Tony’s already standing in front of them, with his third Scotch in his hand and quietly waves them to follow. They slide Loki’s stretcher into the room and the nurses place him onto the king size bed. One of them, a cute brunette with freckles on her cheeks and arms starts undressing Loki, running professional fingers over the leather and metal strings and buckles. 

The Avengers stand in a semicircle around the bed as the nurses undress Loki until he’s lying on the bed in nothing but his briefs. 

Tony tries his best to stare at the nurses instead, but Loki’s pale body stretched on the bed attracts his gaze more than the skinny white pants of the blonde nurse. 

And that means something. 

Bruce was not exaggerating. Blue and purple bruises cover almost every square inch of his skin, occasionally interrupted with dried blood. There’s a black square in the middle of his chest: Tony thinks it looks like a panel saying “Mjölnir was here”. 

When Thor sees the damage he’s done, he makes a whining sound and falls to his knees next to the bed. He takes Loki’s hand in his and stays like this for the next couple of hours. 

When the nurses start washing and bandaging him, the others excuse themselves and leave the room. They assemble in the kitchen, where there’s coffee waiting and the TV shows the previous events and the Avengers’ heroic rescue.   
Of course the helicopter camera crew got some establishing shots of the crane collapsing on Loki, but they are not allowed to show the things that happened after. It’s likely that Coulson raised his voice and forbade it. Tony’s quite sure the man could silence the Queen herself as well, if she said something inappropriate about Steve for example.

“We should create our own TV channel,” he blurts out and shakes everyone from their stupor. The day has worn them all, in physical and emotional sense as well. The physical part is not a big deal, they get in fights like this almost every week, but the shock is something different. Something that shouldn’t be here. It’s not like Thor got injured or something. It’s Loki. But still… it’s Loki. 

Mindfuck, thinks Tony, because it really is.

“What?” Natasha looks like she’s just woken up and when Tony opens a fresh bottle of whisky, she holds out her coffee cup as well.

“Never mind,” interrupts Steve before Tony could make further explanation. “That’s not the point right now. The point is: what to do with Loki.”

“It’s quite simple, I think,” says Bruce. “We keep him under surveillance and wait until he fully recovers.”

“And after that?”

“I don’t know. But I think at first we have to try our best to keep him alive,” Bruce answers quietly and a feeling of panic tightens Tony’s throat.

“You can count on that. He won’t die, I won’t let him,” he says fiercely which earns him 4 pairs of raised eyebrows and widened eyes.

“Look at you, Tony! What happened? You don’t have feelings for Loki, do you?” Clint says with disbelief and mockery in his voice.

“Well, you know how it goes. There must be a certain kind of attachment between you and the one who throws you out of windows and tries to kill you on a monthly basis,” he winks at Clint and Natasha turns red.

“I think the big deal is that Tony has feelings at all,” she snaps back and raises her coffee cup for a toast. “To attachment!”

“Bottoms up,” Tony says and throws back the rest of his Scotch-coffee. The coffee burns his tongue and the whisky leaves a pleasant burning feeling in his throat as   
well. He feels like he could breathe fire. 

They go to bed early that night.


	2. LOKI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like being trapped under the ice. He’s awake - his mind is awake, but his body is not. The warm darkness surrounds him from every direction and when he wants to get closer to the surface, the pain stops him. So he sinks back reluctantly, floating in nothing, thinking of nothing, feeling nothing.

He goes flying backwards in the air, legs tingling like a ragdoll’s. He can barely feel the brick walls as he shots through them – they can’t hurt him, the runes embroidered into his armor and his skin don’t let them touch him. It’s his magical shield that’s breaking through the walls, not his body.

His back hits something bigger this time: something cold and hard and he lands in a rather ungodly way on his knees and hands at the bottom of the strange Midgardian steel tower. He’s gasping for air and feels the throbbing in his chest where the hammer hit him. But that’s okay, he can fix that – as much as he can feel it, his lungs are not damaged. The bone itself could be ruptured, but he has been in situations a hundred times worse than this and he could still come out on top.

A second later he hears the crack and he only has enough time to turn his face when the tower collapses on him.

For a second, he’s just annoyed. He’ll have to waste his time and energy on moving these steel legs, fighting his way back to the top.

He’s certain that his magic is strong enough – he can feel the runes twisting around him, protecting his vital organs and his head from the bigger pieces. But the fight has tired him and he still can’t breathe normally. Black stars are dancing in front of his eyes and his ears are ringing. He can almost see how his power leaks from his body. If the crashing and falling doesn’t stop in a matter of seconds, he’ll not be able to hold on.

The runes on his armor are now shining with a warm, golden light as he gathers his last strength to burst through the ruins. There’s an explosion and the ruins slightly lift – and then collapse back on top of him.

And this time there’s no magic to protect him.

Pain explodes in every part of his body and then there’s nothing but darkness.

*

It feels like being trapped under the ice. He’s awake – his mind is awake, but his body is not. The warm darkness surrounds him from every direction and when he wants to get closer to the surface, the pain stops him. So he sinks back reluctantly, floating in nothing, thinking of nothing, feeling nothing.

He knows what’s happening to him. His magic protects his mind, keeps him caged inside until his body is ready for him to return and take back control.

His head feels empty. He can barely remember his own name. Like all of his memories were above the ice, connected to his body and not to his mind. Simple as that: he doesn’t remember how the softest Asgardian silk or the roughest wool feels, because he cannot remember his skin; he doesn’t know how strawberries taste, because he has no tongue.

What he can remember are his dreams. They were born inside him and they have never left his mind – and now they keep him company. The dreams are good. They help to remember. They slowly drag his memories under the ice to him and he holds onto every bit of freshly regained information.

He doesn’t know how much time passes like this. But time after time, he crawls close to the surface, where the pain is not unbearable, but he’s able to have a slight connection with the world.

The first time he does it, he feels something cool and wet on his skin. He wants to shiver, but his body doesn’t answer. He hears something beeping in the background and something warm and rough envelopes his hand.

He’s not used to physical contact and everything he senses feels to be too much. The cold which should leave his skin prickling. The warmth around his hand. The beeps that wouldn’t stop. This is not like a dream. He never feels things like this in his dreams. He tears himself from reality and sinks back into the darkness.

Next time he hears voices. A loud roar, interrupted by a calm, persuasive voice. 

“What do you mean you can’t put him in the X-ray?” demands the first voice.

“I can. But there’s no result. The field around him distracts every kind of radiation. It seems like he’s healing himself. And he clearly refuses any kind of help. ”

Yes. Yes, I do, he wants to say, but his mouth doesn’t move. He doesn’t want them to examine him, to tear his body apart and put him back again. He doesn’t want them to see how his body works, he doesn’t want them to search for the source of his magic. He knows that Midgardians don’t understand magic and they are desperately searching for any kind of explanation that could give them an answer for the questions their so-called science cannot answer.

“And what if his heart just gives up? How could we restart it, if his body repels electricity as well?” a third person asks, with frustration in his voice. “I’m definitely not giving him CPR.”

“I’m sure that will not be necessary. Don’t you see? He’s getting stronger every day and his vital signals are stabile. Relax, stop worrying so much,” the second voice tries again.

“Yeah, great idea. Except that this is what really pisses me off,” snaps the third voice. “What if he’s getting better? He’s going to wake up in a matter of time. And what will happen when he does? This whole situation is fucked up. I can’t bear to be around him when he’s awake and Thor can’t bear to see him like that. The contradiction poisons everyone. We have to figure out a way…” the third voice still continues, but he doesn’t want to hear anything else.

Thor.

Something shifts inside him at the hearing of the name and the middle of his chest starts throbbing fiercely.

He holds onto the name, grabs it and doesn’t let go, because it’s finally something that didn’t come from a dream, it’s from the outside world, the thread, the path that could guide him back…

He knows that name, he’s heard it before, not just in his dreams, somewhere real, somewhere in the past, in another life, before…

And that’s it. The ice shatters into millions of pieces and the way is finally clear to the surface. Like a bubble, the last breath of a drowning person, he begins to rise. But as he fights his way, the splinters also start piercing his mind. One by one, they give him back fragments of his memory, his identity. Some of them are pleasant, but most of them sting and sour the taste in his mouth.

At least he can feel his mouth now. And slowly, he feels life crawling back into every corner of his body. He can feel his fingertips buzzing with magic, every little sensation of his skin, every sound, every movement around him. He takes over control victoriously and after who knows how many years, he feels something like he’s returned home after a long and tiring journey.

When the joy over his reunion with his body dies down in him, he concentrates on the outside world. There’s a rustling noise on his left side and someone inhales sharply.

“He’s waking up,” announces a hushed voice and he can hear emotions fighting in it. There’s relief, excitement and disbelief, but also fear and discomfort.

The effect of these 3 words is incredible. As they still try to remain as silent as possible, his visitors start moving around the room, probably pushing buttons and typing as he can hear it. The door opens, someone leaves and when it closes again others join the company. They all try their best to keep their voices down and their footsteps light, but not every one of them is capable of such simple tasks.

Even though every muscle in him feels rusty and old, his lips tremble and curve into a slight smirk. His eyes are closed, but he can still see them clearly. He knows every one of them, as well as he knows their strengths, their weaknesses and their fears.

But they don’t know him. He knows that they are watching him, watching his features, his lips, trying to deduce something from it. But they won’t. They can’t. They can’t get into his mind. His every move is unpredictable. And this simple thought eases his pain more than any medication or magic.

Loki takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.


	3. TONY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A part of Tony wants to jerk his head back - the other wants to close the space between them.
> 
> “Thank you, Stark. You’ll be rewarded for this,” Loki whispers, a mischevous smile playing on his lips.

He was playing Mariokart with Clint, with Steve sitting on the couch next to him, watching them and giving strategic advice.  
Bruce was making sandwiches in the kitchen and humming some kind of mantra to himself. Natasha and Thor were of course in Loki’s room – Thor had barely left it in the past 2 weeks, only at those times when he had to patrol. But that didn’t happen as often as it did usually and from Steve’s regretful looks Tony suspected that he’s been messing with the assignments.

All in all, given the circumstances, everything seemed to be normal. Finally everyone, even Tony got used to the fact that Loki’s lying unconscious in one of the rooms. They developed a plan that worked well; Bruce checked on Loki (and Thor) every morning and evening while the others took their turns to be around Thor and possibly never leave him alone. Someone was always there to support him, and after a while they realized that Natasha is the ideal person for the job.

Clint was a bit impatient (and often fell asleep when he had to take the night or evening shift). Tony became extremely irritated after a couple of minutes in Loki’s presence and began talking bullshit, endless bullshit, about everything that popped into his head and Thor couldn’t stand him for more than a few hours. And even though Steve seemed to be sympathy incarnate, he was also really sensitive and was easily offended when his attempts to make Thor eat or talk or just look at him failed.

But Natasha did a really good job. She’s never been good with sweet words, but this time this wasn’t a disadvantage. Thor refused to talk to anyone, all he said was maybe a couple of small grunts and murmured ‘thank you’-s when someone brought him PopTarts and coffee or a blanket or a pillow. The way Tasha’s been around Thor really amazed Tony; she was always there, ready to comfort him by purring words or rubbing his back when he needed, but she was also there, sitting in an armchair in the darkness of the room when Thor pushed everyone away from him.

So, as a moment of theoretical silence (in reality Clint was just yelling: “No-noo! Don’t you dare to blue-shell me, you son of a bitch!”) settled on the house, the door of Loki’s room slid open and Natasha slipped out.

“Guys,” Tony could already tell from her voice that things were about to change. “He’s waking up.”

Damn.

And just like that, the peace is gone.

They all get to their feet and make a beeline for the door. They slip inside one by one, until they are all around the bed. Loki still lies there with his eyes closed but his breathing becomes more rapid and a light shiver runs through his body.

Thor looks at Bruce questioningly who’s standing in front of the flatscreens, checking his heart rate and nodding in approval. After that they all just stand and watch.

Suddenly, Loki’s lips curl into a smile. It makes Tony shiver and the previous bad feeling creeps back inside him and settles in his stomach.

He wants Loki to get out of here as soon as possible. That’s all he wants. And he’s almost certain that he will not be able to have a good night’s sleep as long as this raven-haired Asgardian bastard is inside the tower conscious and ready to fuck their lives up.

Loki takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

At first he stares at the ceiling blankly, like he doesn’t know where he is. And it’s likely he really doesn’t. Then he turns his gaze and gives a measuring look to all the people standing around his bed. He knits his brows and looks at them with utter confusion in his eyes.

He tries to push himself onto one elbow, but his shoulder is still bandaged and he only seems to realize it when he falls back to the pillow.

“Well then, I believe you’ll forgive me that I can’t greet you properly - as you can see, my condition doesn’t allow it. But I do welcome you,” his voice is still a bit rusty, but he manages a huffed laugh.

“Umm… Welcome to Stark Tower,” Steve replies which earns him an unfriendly poke in the ribs from Tony. He looks at him questioningly, but Tony only rolls his eyes. “You should’ve told him that he’s in an underground SHIELD cell somewhere in the Nevada desert with Coulson sleeping on his doorstep with a mine-thrower or something!” this eyeroll means to say.

Loki nods gracefully, then his attention is distracted by the sight of his body. The bruises now have a light brown color, his right wrist is plastered and his left shoulder is also bandaged. Thick layers of linen cover most of his chest, hiding the mark Mjölnir left behind.

He turns his bright green eyes back on the others standing around him. “Could someone please explain what happened exactly? I seem to fail at recalling it entirely…”

Thor steps forward, “You’ve been injured, brother,” he says in a soft voice. “But you’re going to be alright. Loki, you’re going to be alright, I promise.”

Loki shuts his eyes again and frowns. “I can feel clearly that I’ve been injured. My question was exactly how?” Thor shifts uncomfortably and studies the floor.

“We’ve been fighting,” he says quietly. His voice is not more than a sigh.

“Oh yes,” Loki’s eyes dart open and they are glittering feverishly. “Now I can remember. You were fighting me. And you did this to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Loki I didn’t-”

“What? You didn’t mean it? I’ve seen your face right before you hit me in the chest. You are no golden boy when you are fighting your enemies – you are thunder itself. There was lightning in your eyes, I saw it. You were trying to kill me – and you’ve succeeded.”

“I didn’t! You are alive!” There’s such hurt in Thor’s voice, Tony begins to feel really uncomfortable. This definitely makes it to his list of Top 10 Most Awkward Involuntarily Witnessed Brotherly Moments. A sideglance towards the others proves that it’ll be on their lists as well.

“I’m alive because magic flows deep inside me,” Loki says arrogantly.

“Yeah, umm… we were trying to help, but there was not much we could do because of your… magic,” Bruce says and he sounds a bit offended.

“And I am most grateful for all your efforts, doctor,” Loki turns to him and a charming smile spreads on his face. His tone and his eyes are actually warm – and then Tony remembers Loki’s well-known title.

Ladies and gentlemen, from the far away land of Asgard, may I present you – Loki and his Silver Tongue, Tony thinks bitterly.

“Well… I never thought I’ll ever say these words ever, but… I’m glad you’re not dead, Loki,” Steve says. He seems to be totally convinced by the trickster’s charming smile and friendly eyes – which now turn to him.

“Thank you, Captain. But my recovery brings disappointing news to you as well – the demigod of your company is not nearly as strong as you thought he was,” Loki adds casually.

Steve inhales sharply and Thor’s face turns even paler. The smile is still playing on Loki’s lips as his brother shuts the door behind him with a bang.

“I think you could use a good rest. I’ll be outside if you need anything,” Bruce says quickly before he also rushes out – probably to find Thor. Loki obediently closes his eyes and stills.

“Shouldn’t we leave someone here to… watch him?” Clint asks and you can tell from his voice that he’s not going to volunteer.

Steve and Natasha look at Tony at the same time with pleading in their eyes. Tony runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “Okay, I’ll stay. But let me warn you Steve – if he does anything wicked to me, I’ll try the same on you,” he winks and sits back to Tasha’s chair.

When the door closes with a click, Loki lets out the breath he’s been holding and opens his eyes. He seems surprised to find Tony still in the room.

“Make yourself at home, Tony Stark.”

“I AM home!” Tony snaps back.

“Oh yes. Stark Tower, headquarter of the world-famous Avengers,” Loki says and Tony curses Steve again for informing him. Loki seems to concentrate. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“For about 2 weeks… You really didn’t know what happened to you, or you just wanted to torture Thor with the memory?”

Loki smiles, “Probably both. I didn’t remember how I got under that metal tower, but I suspected that… my brother was behind it,” he pauses and his eyes lock with Tony’s. “And I was not torturing him, I only told him the events how they appeared to me.”

“You told him that he killed you!”

“Well, I always tend to be a bit dramatic… and this time it was quite the truth.”

Tony’s eyes widen, “But… that’s impossible. Your heart was beating, I heard it, I felt it-” Loki raises his brow, which makes him, the great Tony Stark, Iron Man himself, blush. “Anyway, we have proof that your heart never stopped beating. Which means you did not die.”

“The day’ll come when I explain it to you, Tony Stark,” Loki’s eyes glitter mischievously. “But now, would you be so kind to help me sit up?”

“Bruce said you should sleep. You must be tired-”

“I’m not as weak as you think,” Loki rolls his eyes. “And besides, I can’t sleep when my whole body is sticky and itching. I wish to get cleaned at first.”

Tony jerks back. No. No. Absolutely NOT. This definitely wasn’t part of the deal. “You don’t want me to bathe you, do you?” he asks with disbelief in his voice.

Loki makes a face, “Of course not. I only want you to run a bath for me,” he speaks like he’s talking to a five-year old. “I assume you can do that can’t you?”

“Umm.. yeah, sure,” Tony almost trips in his own legs as he rushes to the bathroom. From the other room, he can hear a muffled gasp and the creak of the bed and when he returns, Loki’s already sitting on the bed, supporting himself with his left hand. When he hears Tony’s footsteps, he raises his head to look at him. His pupils are huge, like two deep black pools and there seems to be no blood left in his face.

“Hey, are you alright?” Tony sits onto the bed as well, in a safe distance from the other man.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Loki says, but his breathing is ragged – this simple task seems to have tired him more than he expected. He holds his right hand in his lap, clumsy and useless, while his free hand tugs on the bandage on his chest. Tony reaches out and without a word, unwraps him.

Loki turns to him and looks like he wants to say something, but then he follows Tony’s widened eyes and looks down on his chest. The square is still there, but instead of black, now it has a sick, dark purple color with a web of small red veins running from the centre of it to every direction.

“Mjölnir was here,” Tony murmurs to break the silence – and Loki actually laughs at it.

“Yes. Thor was always good at marking his territory…”

“Tell me about it,” Tony nods and an image pops into his head: a cupboard, filled with boxes of PopTarts, and the word “THOR’S” written on every single piece with gigantic, childish capital letters. Clint and Tony always tease each other to steal one or two, but until this day, nobody had the courage to actually do it.

For a moment, Tony can only sense that something is wrong, but he can’t define it. Then it hits him like – well, almost like Mjölnir; he’s sitting on a bed, with his hands still tangled in some cloths, joking about Thor and – holy shit, what am I doing?! – giggling with Loki!

Mindfuck, Tony thinks again, because he has no other words to describe what happened. He bites his lip and shakes his head.

This is not right. Loki is the enemy. You shouldn’t trust him, a voice, that sounds a bit like Rhodey’s, says in his head. The friendly atmosphere is gone and Tony realizes how close they are, his hand almost touching Loki’s thigh – and by the way, he’s still wearing nothing but his underwear, which doesn’t help to resolve the tension.

He stands up from the bed and tears his eyes from Loki’s chest. He can feel his green eyes on him, filled with questions, as he walks back to the bathroom and turns off the water.

Loki’s still sitting in the same pose when he returns, but for the first time since he woke up, Tony can see doubt in his eyes. He looks like a wounded animal, so Tony tries to approach him as casually as he can. He stops in front of him and offers him his hand.

Loki holds it and lets Tony pull him to his feet. Tony wants to let go immediately, but Loki loses his balance and Tony has to catch him by the arms. For a moment, they’re standing face to face and Tony can feel Loki trembling in his grip.

“Hey… are you okay?” he asks quietly.

Loki takes a deep breath and looks at him. “I’m perfectly fine,” he repeats and after that they just stand there quietly, staring at each other, holding their breaths.

Until Tony decides to make the next move. “You can still ask me to bathe you, you know.” Yeah. The Iron Man suit and his brain are not Tony’s only superpowers – he has his tongue as well. And you can always be damn sure he uses it.

Loki throws back his head and laughs without a sound, “Don’t be too confident, Stark. Just escort me to the tub and I’ll get along.”

“Escort you,” Tony murmurs and there’s an awkward moment when he doesn’t know how to help Loki. Finally, he wraps his arms around his waist, so Loki can place his free hand on his shoulder.

Slowly, step by step, they make their way to the bathroom. Loki tries his best to remain silent, but Tony can hear his silent moans when his fingers press his skin too hard.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Pepper’s voice in his head compliments him. “It’s not easy to hold you without touching you.”

“You are a very talented nurse, Stark. Maybe you should consider a career-change.”

“Unfortunately I wasn’t lucky enough to look after you when they brought you here. But the nurses did a wonderful job at undressing you…” Tony’s mind wanders off and goosebumps rise on his arms as he glances at Loki next to him.

“Mmmmm,” Loki purrs and Tony can’t decide if it’s because he’s finally sitting on the side of the tub, or because he reads his mind. He suspects it’s the latter.

Now that he’s sitting, Loki has to look up on him. He squeezes his shoulder and when Tony looks at him, he leans closer so their noses are almost touching.

A part of Tony wants to jerk his head back – the other wants to close the space between them.

“Thank you, Stark. You’ll be rewarded you for this,” Loki whispers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. For a second, the promise hangs in the air between them. Then Loki leans back and makes a dismissive movement with his hand.

“Now, off you go. I’ll ring a bell if I need something.”

Tony stands up and stumbles out of the room. His head feels light and empty, and the only thought his mind can form is: “I should help him to get out of the tub… and escort him back to the bed.”

The boys are sitting on the couch, watching the match when Tony throws himself into the armchair next to them.

“Why did you leave him?”

“Why did you open a brand new bottle of Scotch?” Steve asks the same time as Clint.

“Let me answer with the same 4 words,” Tony hold up his finger. “Because I wanted to.”

“And are you planning to go back?”

“Give it to me, please.” Steve and Clint are still talking in stereo.

“I love having a conversation with the two of you at the same time,” Tony remarks. “It saves an awful lot of time. And my answer is no – to both of you.”

“Well, I’m not going to read him a bedtime story,” Clint holds up his hands.

“And I won’t let you drink all that,” Steve shakes his head and reaches for the bottle.

“Filthy combo breakers,” Tony murmurs and leans back in his chair, keeping the bottle out of the blonde’s reach. “Okay, okay, I get. Then let’s drink together, shall we?”

He returns with 2 glasses and a bucket of ice. Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Clint’s poke silences him. They accept the drinks, but before they could even sit back on the sofa, Tony has already thrown back his and is pouring himself another one.

“Then I guess we won’t make any toast tonight,” Clint murmurs into his glass and quickly swallows the Scotch to keep up with Tony.

Several drinks later Tony is a little bit more talkative – and Clint’s more curious than ever. Steve sits next to them in silence, as always when he drinks – you can’t tell if he’s drunk or just thinking.

“Sooo… what did Loki say?” Clint asks, his eyes glittering dimly.

Tony clicks his tongue and frowns at the glass in his hand, “Nothing. He just asked about his accident.”

“Okay, I’ll ask differently… What did Loki do?”

“What do you mean?” Tony’s tongue is buzzing and his mind is cloudy enough not to be capable of understanding the connotation of the archer’s words.

“You know what I mean-”

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!”

“I mean what did Loki do to you? You even avoid looking at his door…”

“He didn’t do anything,” Tony says.

“You are a very talented liar, Tony,” Clint says after a moment of silence.

“I’m not lying!” Tony growls at him, frustrated and annoyed.

“You are a very talented liar,” Clint repeats, “you can fool even yourself.”

Tony turns his head so quickly, it makes his neck crack. Without a word, he rises from the couch and leaves the room.

Natasha’s standing in the doorway, turning her gaze from Tony to Clint.

“Tony, what’s wrong?”

He only grabs her shoulder to gently remove her from his way. “Take care of him, Tasha. He’s drunk as fuck.”

“And what about you?” she asks gently.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Tony answers stiffly and walks away.


	4. LOKI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gingerly opens his eyes and has to bite his tongue to stop the disappointed cry in his throat.
> 
> The water in the tub is covered with a thin layer of transparent ice – and underneath it lies a body.
> 
> A body of a Frost Giant.
> 
> His body.

When the door closes behind Tony Stark, Loki lets out that quiet laugh he’s been holding. His recovery is not going to be as boring as he expected. And hopefully after the next couple of hours, less painful as well.

He leans back and slides into the steaming water. He lands with a splash and Loki floats with his eyes closed until the small waves die down around him. The cloths covering his skin are already soaked, but the only thing Loki can do is to get rid of his underwear.

He takes a couple of deep breaths and closes his eyes again. When he can feel his muscles relax and his breathing becomes even, he reaches down, down, deep down into his mind, until he reaches that smooth, cold shield in the back of his mind – the only thing protected from his own magic.

He caresses the surface for a minute, lets his thoughts flow around it like water, being repelled every time, then forms a small mental dagger – and pushes it in. As soon as the shield recognizes the “fingerprint” of his mind, it dissolves.

Underneath, there’s nothing but the cold.

Loki can feel it creeping into every part of his body, starting from the back of his head and radiating into his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on his arms and legs, and it feels like someone’s twisting and scratching his skin. Strange colours are dancing in front of his closed eyes and when he runs his tongue over his teeth, they feel pointed and sharp.

Then he hears the water freezing around him and knows that the transformation is complete.

Loki gingerly opens his eyes and has to bite his tongue to stop the disappointed cry in his throat.

The water in the tub is covered with a thin layer of transparent ice – and underneath it lies a body.

A body of a Frost Giant.

His body.

It’s cold. Ice cold. Literally. The cold radiating from his body is enough to slightly freeze the water. It has a royal blue color and a strange pattern covers his skin. It looks like some kind of tribal scar, but it’s way too regular to be accidental.

This is my heritage, Loki thinks bitterly as he lifts his left hand to his eyes. It breaks the ice in an abstract shape, but Loki only has to take a deep breath and exhale to freeze it again.

He runs his hand through his hair – the only thing that doesn’t change. His long black locks are now covered in frost. He smoothes some of it back behind his ears – which are now bigger and pointed. Then his hand wanders to his face – the pattern creeps up his neck and continues on his cheeks as well. The scars form an elaborate line across his forehead – something that reminds him of a crown. This simple thought makes Loki’s stomach turn.

He doesn’t need a mirror to see that even his eyes are different now. The green is gone, and instead they have the color of blood.

Loki bites his lip and shivers, which spreads a web of tiny cracks on the ice around his torso.

Loki hates this form. He hates his body, every single part of it. But the longer he stays like this, the healthier his other body gets. At least his skin can regenerate perfectly – the bones would take at least a day to heal. And he just couldn’t bear to stay like this for a whole day.

He also hates snakes, but this trick resembles to a snake’s molting. Except that he only has these two skins. But still, this one even has some kind of scales. And he’s seen more snakes with red eyes than Asgardians.

The water cooled since he transformed, but to Loki it feels almost warm. It’s not the temperature that makes him shiver again. The resemblance with the despised creatures is too obvious to be unnoticed. Too disturbing.

“I am not a snake. I am a Jotun,” he whispers to himself and he wants to laugh and cry at the same time, because this sentence is the only explanation. And this is the tragedy of it.

He’s so lost in his thoughts, he almost misses the creak of the opening door.

Loki’s eyes snap open, so he can see Tony Stark standing in the doorway.

Looking right at him.


	5. TONY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt like he’d walked into an igloo.
> 
> He could only see a flash of red in a swirl of blue and hear a sound he couldn’t place. It sounded like ice crushing.
> 
> Then Loki’s standing right in front of him, naked, dripping wet and furious – and pressing something sharp and ice-cold to his chest.
> 
> “What are you doing?”

Tony couldn’t sleep.

He wanted to be sleepy, this time he really wanted to take Pepper’s advice and go to bed at a reasonable hour – not when he collapses on top of some drawings and metal accessories. But it seemed like he’s drunk energy drink instead of alcohol – his eyes snapped open when he tried to shut them for more than 30 seconds and he felt like he could run a marathon and breathe fire at the same time. At least the latter was a familiar feeling.

After his brief conversation with Natasha, he headed straight to his room, shook off his clothes and crawled into the bed. And after that, he didn’t know what to do.

So his brain turned back to his problem. And once again, Tony started to think about Loki.

He didn’t understand anything. The images of this young, pale man sitting beside him on the bed, clutching his shoulder for support, even flirting with him (did that just happen? Tony still couldn’t believe it) were not compatible with the ones of a psychopath.

Time after time, Tony had to remind himself how Loki even got into that bed. If he wasn’t a wicked little bastard who wanted to tear apart the Brooklyn bridge, he wouldn’t even be in the tower right now! He would be hiding in his cave, planning revenge, looking after his wounds by himself – and letting Tony sleep.

Then what was this little act with the deep dark eyes and seduction? What was that for?

He didn’t want to know. He did want to know.

Tony crawled out of bed and stumbled to his bedroom-worktable, trying to convert his energy into something brilliant. Like redesigning JARVIS, for a start. That sounded good. Sounded like something that can occupy his brain for the next hours until the flame burns out in him and sleep would finally win. Good plan.

Except that his mind was completely blank. He couldn’t recall a single thing about what he wanted to do with JARVIS and how.

“Fuck me, I’m drunk,” he murmured to himself and pulled out the bottom drawer of his table – where another bottle was hidden for cases of emergency. Just like this one.

Half an hour later Tony reached a stage Clint calls ‘Call-The-Ex’. In this phase, Tony usually calls his ex-girlfriends, tells them how much his life is better without them, laughs at them and hangs up. Watching him while doing it is Clint’s favourite Sunday-night activity… apart from “training” with Natasha.

But this time Tony didn’t think about any of his ex-girlfriends. He thought of one specific person who was possibly the first one in history who could leave him puzzled and who crept into his every thought and suffocated the logical part of his mind.

You son of a bitch, get out of my head. Anger flared in him and Tony felt the sudden urge to punch Loki. Not that he didn’t want to do that every time they met in the past, but this was somehow different. He just wanted to walk up to him and spit it out, tell him how much he pissed him off, pin him to the wall by his shoulders and rip his shirt apart and bite his neck and-

Stop. Right now, a voice warned in his head. 

Great. At least I still have my imaginary friends to look after me, Tony thought. The word “conscience” was not in his dictionary. He pictured Pepper standing in front of him, with her arms crossed and lips pressed to a thin line. That actually helped. 

Tony was perfectly aware of the fact that Loki is inside the tower, probably already sleeping in his bed, but it sounded too surreal for his drunken mind. He wanted to see him again with his own eyes. He wanted to ask a thousand questions and yet couldn’t think of a single one.

So instead of thinking, he sprang to his feet and strode out of the room.

Loki’s king size bed was untouched and the cloths were still where he left them. The room was dark, the only source of light was a thin line under the bathroom door.

Without hesitation, he crossed the room and opened the door.

It felt like he’d walked into an igloo.

He could only see a flash of red in a swirl of blue and hear a sound he couldn’t place. It sounded like ice crushing.

Then Loki’s standing right in front of him, naked, dripping wet and furious – and pressing something sharp and ice-cold to his chest.

“What are you doing?” Loki hisses with his teeth clenched.

It surprised Tony so much, he forgot that he’s the one who was supposed to be angry. “I could ask the same from you,” That’s all he can say as he turns his eyes from Loki’s face and examines the thing in his hand. “Is that… a sword?”

“Automatic defense mechanism. You disturbed me,” Loki growls like it would explain everything. Like everyone’s carrying a sword behind their ears, in case they are disturbed in the bathroom.

It looks like a huge sword, its blade is wider and longer than Tony’s arm, but it’s white and transparent on the sides. And it’s colder than anything Tony has ever felt in his life, it’s burning his skin. At least the sensation clears his head enough to be able to reboot his mind.

“Where did you get that from? And what is it made of anyway?” Tony finally seems to have found his voice… and the questions are just pouring out of him.

“Ice,” Loki is hissing again, and he doesn’t look like himself… or actually, he looks like his old self again. His eyes are dark and glittering viciously, his lips curled into a snarl, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You’re pointing a fucking ice-sword at me,” Tony remarks. “Are you planning to stab me? ‘Cause my body heat is pretty much melting your fancy automatic defense mechanism.”

The question finally seems to shake Loki from his defense-mode. He shakes his head like he’s just woken up and looks at the sword in utter confusion. It’s still pressed into Tony’s collarbone, just next to his neck and as Loki removes it, it leaves a thin red line behind. Blood starts trickling from the wound – the sword cut him without Loki actually pushing it.

Loki’s eyes jump from the sword to the wound. He lowers the dripping weapon and raises his other hand. His eyes dart to Tony’s face, seeking his reaction, but when he gets nothing, he gingerly places his finger on the wound and closes his eyes. His hand starts to glow with an ice-blue light, shining through the plaster. Then there’s an almost inaudible buzzing sound, followed by an itching sensation under his skin – and when Tony looks down, the wound is gone, replaced by a thin, silver scar.

Loki seems like he’s completely forgotten that Tony’s still in the room – and with all the booze still flaming inside him, it pisses Tony the hell off. But Loki’s just standing there, staring at his hand in disbelief, his other hand still clutching the sword.

His whole body is shaking and when he speaks, his words are barely audible.

“You should probably get out of my room.”

Tony blinks slowly, his drunk mind processing the “suggestion” – then deciding to ignore it.

“Look, I didn’t mean to disturb you or anything,” he starts, his tongue staggering on each word. “I just wanted to-”

The rest of the sentence freezes in his throat as the room around him blurs for a moment, and when his vision clears, he’s standing in the doorway of Loki’s room, already halfway out on the corridor.

Loki’s still standing in the doorway of his bathroom, eyeing Tony from across the room. The same blue light shines from his extended arm, but it dies down quickly as some kind of convulsion yanks his body and he falls to his knees, embracing his torso with both arms. The sword fell from his hand and now it’s lying on the floor… and looks nothing like the weapon Tony saw moments ago.

It kind of starts to grow. Like some weird ice-plant, it grows branches and twisting vines that engulf Loki’s crouching figure, forming a canopy until it looks like he’s sitting in a bird cage.

When he raises his head, Tony can’t see green in his eyes.

“Get out!” Loki almost screams and releases himself for a moment to close the door with a whisk.

Tony stands in front of the closed door, trying to focus on it when there’s a sound from inside.

It’s somewhere between a sob and a shout, then there’s the sharp sound of glass breaking, then something whistling and finally the thumps. Then just the silence.

Tony focuses on the doorknob for a long moment before slowly turning it and slipping back into the room.

It feels like glass crashing under his feet, but Tony is somehow certain that it’s still ice. When he raises his head, his breath catches in his throat.

The room is full of splinters. They are literally everywhere. Tony rubs his eyes and feels like some ridiculous cartoon character, but when he opens his eyes, they are still there. Buried in the wall. In the carpet. In the wood of the door. Perforated the curtains. Scratched the glass of the windows. Tore holes in the covers and pillows of the bed.

And Loki seems to be the eye of the hurricane, since there are significantly less splinters around him. Not that it matters. He seems to be unconscious again, sprawled on his stomach with his face buried in the carpet, arms extended like he’s been crucified.

“Oh shit,” Tony murmurs and crosses the room, trying to avoid as many of the ice splinters as possible. Some of them are thin and transparent and crush without effort under his feet or disappear into a puddle before Tony even touches them, but there are some that look like daggers, barbed and solid, so Tony doesn’t risk stepping into one of them.

Loki still doesn’t move when Tony reaches him, but at least now he can hear his panting breaths. Tony gingerly touches his head and turns it to the side, so he could at least breathe normally.

For a moment, he considers dragging him to the bed, but with all the sharp ice around them, he doesn’t really trust his drunk abilities. The sudden temperature changes don’t really help him sober up - in fact, his head is buzzing and feels dull. And besides, the bed’s still covered in ice, it will take a couple of hours to melt and dry.

Call for help. Wake up the others, a part of his mind suggests.

Oh, fuck off. He’s fine. He’s lying on soft, clean carpet. Persian, actually. Let’s just go to sleep. 

The ice is still pinning the blanket to the bed, so Tony takes off his silk bathrobe he’s been wearing and covers Loki with it – after using the opportunity of taking mental pictures of Loki’s impossible Asgardian bum of course. The word that pops into his mind is delicious.

Then he climbs into Natasha’s chair that was somewhat protected from the ice. He pulls out the remaining pieces, pulls his knees to his chin and wraps his arms around them.

His eyes are fixed on Loki while his eyelids are getting more and more heavy, and eventually Tony drifts off to sleep.


	6. LOKI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened to you? Do you have any idea what that was?”
> 
> Loki looks deep into his eyes - he doesn’t want to miss a second of what comes next.
> 
> “No,” he says with his most winning smile.
> 
> Checkmate.

He wakes up on the carpet with something wet around his numb arms and something cool and smooth on his backside.

Loki pushes himself to his elbows, the movement making his injured shoulder crack so loudly, Tony Stark snorts and shifts in his armchair. Loki looks up on him from the floor from under knitted brows, forcing his mind to remember.

Something happened last night he doesn’t understand.

There are only flashes in his mind. Tony Stark standing in the doorway. An ice sword growing out of his arm. The strange blue light of magic radiating from his fingers as he healed him. That light engulfing him from the inside. Taking over control. Until it’s just too much. And he explodes.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” says a rough voice from above him. Loki wants to jump, but his numb body only reacts with a twitch. Tony Stark cackles. “Did you sleep well?”

“Save your morning courtesies to someone else, Stark,” Loki waves.

“Did the chattering of my teeth rouse you, Sleeping Beauty?” Tony asks, rubbing his bare legs and upper arm.

“Maybe next time instead of attempting to impress me, you could just think and dress warmer when you take the night shift,” Loki murmurs, turning around and pulling the cool material onto his body. He slides his arms into the gown and wraps it loosely around his waist.

“Yeah, feel free to use my wardrobe. Anytime, really,” Stark says with his eyebrows raised. Loki looks down and sees a dark crimson bathrobe made of silk, the initials A H and S embroidered above the heart with golden thread.

“Mmmmm, fine,” Loki murmurs, crumbling the material between his fingers. “It’s something my brother would appreciate,” a sour grin spreads on his lips, “please tell me that every Avenger has one.”

“Unfortunately not… yet!” Stark springs out of his chair and rushes to the table, looking for a piece of paper and a pen, murmuring the words ‘domestic uniform’ to himself.

Loki sits on the bed and squints at him.

“Why would the chattering of your teeth wake me anyway?”

Tony Stark fumbles with the paper, trying to fold it into something. “I don’t know, it was just… really cold in here last night. I had JARVIS turn up the heating but it didn’t help,” his thoughts wander off, his hands idly scraping his collarbone.

Loki jumps in front of him and seizes him by the wrist in a blink of an eye. At least my strength is somewhat regained. That’s a good sign, he thinks.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, it just itches-” Stark’s voice sticks in his throat when Loki places his palm on the silvery scar.

“Cold as ice,” Loki whispers and Tony Stark’s eyes go wide.

“Holy shit it’s frozen!” His eyes are searching Loki’s face now. “You did this to me didn’t you?”

“I- I don’t know,” Loki is truly confused. He’s staring at the mark incredulously, running his finger over it again and again.

“This would actually feel good if I could feel a damn thing!” Is that a glimpse of panic in Tony Stark’s voice? In any other case Loki would be highly entertained, but right now he’s too busy.

Stark shakes his hand off and starts for the door.

“What are you doing?” Loki asks again, impatience in his voice.

“I’m going to melt my fricking collarbone,” Stark says. “Put the frying pan on it or something…”

Loki follows him on the corridor, idly realizing that this is the first time he gets to see the tower from the inside. His muscles already ache from the stimulation, but he still keeps up with Stark.

The corridor flows into a spacious living room furnished with couches and armchairs around a coffee table and a huge screen in front of the back wall made of pure glass. Another door opens from the room which surely leads to the kitchen, since Stark enters without slowing down. Loki is at his heels.

His mood is much brightened by the sight of pure surprise and shock on the other Avengers’ faces.

Captain Steve Rogers drops the sandwich he’s been lifting to his mouth, covering his lap in layers of mustard, ham and vegetables.

Agent Barton is perched on the counter, peacefully eating a bowl of cereal, but as soon as he catches sight of Loki entering behind Iron Man, he flings himself down to the floor and lands on his arse not very elegantly.

Bruce Banner is visibly taken aback and has to breathe into a paper bag for the next five minutes to calm his nerves.

Natasha Romanoff looks slightly bored, like she’s been waiting for this moment to come for some time now.

And Thor… well, Thor’s the only one whose reaction is not surprising to Loki at all. The surprise on his face quickly changes into euphoria and his eyes light up at his sight.

Loki actually manages a smirk towards him before the others find their voices.

“Tony… what the hell man… Loki… help,” Barton is visibly choking and Steve Rogers has to use the Heimlich-maneuver on him.

“Clint, Loki’s staying with us, remember?” he whispers while patting the agent’s back.

“Morning, Tony. Loki,” Natasha nods and returns to her yoghurt.

“Miss Romanoff. Agent Barton. Captain. Doctor,” Loki bows gracefully in each direction before turning back to his brother.

“It’s good to see you awake, brother,” Thor says, his voice still a bit reserved.

“It’s good to be awake,” Loki replies and Thor twitches slightly when he hears the sarcasm in his voice.

“Umm… are you hungry or…?” Captain Rogers’s voice is insecure and embarrassed as he leaves Barton and starts picking up the ruins of his breakfast.

“I’d very much like to have something for breakfast, thank you,” Loki settles on one of the tall bar chairs and looks at the blonde, awaiting.

“I’m making pancakes. You can have some if you can wait for another 5 minutes,” Tony Stark emerges from the pantry, stirring something in a bowl. It smells sweet and Loki’s stomach growls in anticipation. He jumps off the chair and crosses the room with long strides.

Stark offers him the spoon with a mischievous grin playing on his lips and Barton starts choking again as Loki leans forward and takes it in his mouth, never breaking eye contact with Stark. Then he grins and pulls his head back, licking the sweet, sticky paste off his lips.

“Make that three,” he grins and pulls himself up to the counter, taking his plastered wrist in his lap.

In two and a half minutes, Stark slides the first pancakes onto a plate and offers them to Loki. He stuffs the first one into his mouth and moans victoriously. With his eyes closed in order to enjoy the taste fully at first he can only hear a sizzling sound, followed by a sigh of relief.

“Tony what the hell are you doing?” Steve Rogers’s incredulous voice rouses Loki.

When he opens his eyes, he can see Tony Stark standing next to the stove, spatula in hand – and a pancake laid on his shoulder.

“Much better,” he sighs before Loki is standing in front of him again, laying his hand on the scar, his mind yanked back to their initial problem. The surface is significantly warmer but still not warm enough.

“What is that?” Romanoff’s voice asks from behind them, finally seeming a bit curious.

“You bastard, did you cut him?” Barton seems ready to slit his throat, but Loki doesn’t pay attention to them. His eyes are fixed on Tony Stark, travelling from his scar to his face and back.

“What happened last night?” he asks, voice hushed.

But the Hawk can still hear him. “Yeah, Tony – what happened last night? And by the way… is Loki wearing your bathrobe? Why is he wearing your bathrobe? Tony-”

“Shut up, Clint,” Natasha places a firm hand on his arm. She, the agent and Captain Rogers are standing around them, their hundreds of distracting questions written all over their faces.

“I didn’t really see anything…”

“Then what did you hear?” Stark looks at the scar uncomfortably, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Loki shakes him by the shoulder. “Stark. This is important. Try to remember-”

“I was drunk, damnit! I don’t even know which memories are real,” Loki can see the frustration in Stark’s eyes, but doesn’t care. This is really important.

“Okay, I- you pushed me out of your room,” Tony Stark begins thoughtfully. “And then there was this… ice dome around you and… nah, I must have dreamt that part… then you closed the door and there was this sound of… glass? ice? ice breaking… and when I entered your room was full of splinters.”

“And he cut you with one of them?” Captain Rogers’s voice startles Stark.

“No. That was before, with the sword,” Stark shrugs and doesn’t take his eyes off of Loki. “You blew up that ice cage, didn’t you?”

“…sword?” Barton gasps, but Loki ignores him, his eyes locked with Tony’s.

“It exploded, yes.”

“Umm, Loki… Does this mean that your room is now covered in ice? Also, would you please tell us about that sword?” Steve Rogers asks. “And maybe you could tell why you cut Tony…”

“The ice melted hours ago and so did the sword,” he answers impatiently. “There’s nothing to worry about now, Captain. As for Tony Stark – he brought it on himself.”

“Yeah, maybe I should’ve knocked,” Stark shrugs.”But that doesn’t explain why part of my shoulder is still fucking frozen!”

“Let me heal it,” Loki says and stretches his fingers across the numb, cold surface. It doesn’t feel like human skin at all – more like the skin of something bigger, something colder…

“No thanks,” Stark flinches and moves away from him. “I thought you already did.”

Loki sighs and rubs his temples with two of his fingers. Yes, he really thought he healed it - he wanted to help him, he truly did.

This is a strange and new and unexpected situation for him and as he raises his head, his gaze locks with Tony’s for a splitsecond - in which Loki’s sure that the other has seen all this written on his face. Then he arranges his features, so they show nothing of the mess that’s inside his head right now.

“Let me help you,” Loki takes a step forward, his hands raised – a gesture of peace. This time Stark doesn’t move away when Loki places his hand on the scar. His hand starts glowing with its usual, emerald light and he feels like a huge weight has been lifted from his chest. When he takes away his hand, Stark’s skin is soft and warm again – the slightest trace of the scar wiped away.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” Barton murmurs, sounding deeply surprised that Loki didn’t just turn his teammate into ash. “So you’re capable of doing nice things with that green light as well. That’s good to know…”

“Yeah, it was kinda useful-” Stark rubs his collarbone, then his hand freezes. He looks at Loki like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“Your magic is green,” he states and even Captain Rogers gives him a look that suggests he’s judging his mental abilites. But Loki can see the pieces clicking together in his head - and it’s too late for him to stop the next sentence.

“Your magic is green… but that thing last night was blue.”

Loki manages a sly smile and arches one of his brows, but it’s all just an act for the others now. Stark knows.

“I’m not colorblind, Stark,” his voice is purposely cool, his eyes glittering like cold steel. He feels magic humming in his fingertips. It would take a snap of his fingers to shut him up, even to rip out his tongue and disappear into thin air- but Loki doesn’t move. This is like a game of chess - and now he’s waiting for the next move.

“So now your magic either changes color according to you mood, or something’s seriously gone wrong inside that wicked head of yours,” Stark’s voice is almost casual.

“Can you see that blue light anywhere, Stark?” he asks just as casually and even looks around himself, like he’s waiting for it to materialize around him in any minute.

“No. But that doesn’t mean it disappeared forever, does it,” Tony Stark’s voice hardens and he takes a step towards Loki. “What happened to you? Do you have any idea what that was?”

Loki looks deep into his eyes - he doesn’t want to miss a second of what comes next.

“No,” he says with his most winning smile.

Checkmate.

“Okay, I’m out,” Hawkeye throws his hands up in defeat and grabs the doctor by the arm. He looks a bit green. “Bruce, I think you better come with me now.”

The smile’s still playing on his lips as he turns his attention back to the remaining Avengers standing around him.

“Can you tell me how on Earth you find this amusing?” Stark dropped the act completely and this time he truly seems committed. 

“Why, don’t you?” Loki wants to throw his head back and laugh, because this is just great, this is easier than he ever expected, he doesn’t even need to lie and they are already terrified, finally seeing him the way he is. Unpredictable. Wicked. Lethal.

“Let’s see… something possessed your magic last night that you couldn’t control and then it just disappeared and now you can’t even tell if it will ever return or not. No. I don’t think that’s funny at all. And believe me, I have a great sense of humour.”

“Loki, is that true?” it seems Captain Rogers finally pieced it together.

“Actually, it’s not-” he begins, but Stark cuts him off.

“Actually, it is. Now, call Fury and tell them to send his troops and lock him up in the basement of his house or whatever.”

Loki whips his head back to look him in the eye. “You will be more grateful, Tony Stark. I can put that scar back on your collarbone whenever I want,” he growls.

“You see, that’s my problem,” Stark nods, eyes growing cold and reserved. “And this is why you’re a threat for everyone in this mansion.”

“My friends,” Thor’s deep voice hits Loki like lightning. He completely forgot that his brother was even in the room – it was unusual from Thor to be so quiet for so long. “Please, do not forget why my brother’s here. He’s been injured, by my fault. We agreed to keep him here until he’s recovered and then-”

“And then? Pray enlighten me, please,” says Loki but he gets no answer. They clearly did not think that further.

“Whatever we agreed in, it has to be reconsidered now,” the Black Widow says in an almost emotionless tone. “We wouldn’t have let Loki go until he’d recovered – and now we can’t do it after he’s well either.” At the sight of 4 pairs of raised eyebrows a smile ghosts over the Russian’s lips. “We cannot risk all those agents’ security at SHIELD. The safest place to lock him up in right now is this tower.”

“Am I taken into custody then?” Loki asks, barely suppressing his anger.

“Think of it as home guard,” as soon as the sword disappeared from above his head, Stark starts joking right away. Loki hisses at him in reply.

“I do not consent,” he spits.

“There’s not much you can do,” Tony shrugs. “It’ll be enough to piss yourself off after you’ve recovered. Now you are still weak and you need to rest. Like this, you couldn’t have left anyway.”

Loki bares his teeth to snarl at them.

“You forget one thing. A thing of high importance.”

“And that would be…?” Tony Stark raises his brow.

Loki’s snarl turns into a vicious smile.

“I do what I want.”

And with that, he storms out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote these chapters back in July when I had all those endless summer nights... now all I can promise is that the work's still in progress, I'll try to write as much as I can.  
> Until then, please comment and review!


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